Stained
by Toasty
Summary: “The stained glass,” he told her one afternoon, “is what makes everything so beautiful.” They were sitting under an oak tree eating peaches Ginny had packed for them. (Involves Ginny, Percy, and a skeptical Harry)


Hi.  Short here.  No real romance, but sweet nonetheless.  The ending idea never was mine, because I'm not brilliant enough to think of something like that, but I loved it too much not to steal it- along with the characters.  Remarkably, I quite like Harry in this fic.

Enjoy.

Stained 

Ginny stepped off the Hogwarts Express at the end of her fourth year and sighed.  After heaving her trunk onto a nearby trolly she looked up and surveyed her peers with her eyes.  Luna smiled, truly smiled, at her father and quickly pinned her hair back in a bun with the use of her wand.  Harry, dressed in a faded black jumper, stepped out through the barrier, no doubt going to meet his Aunt and Uncle.

The young redhead's eyes landed next on Pansy Parkinson, and she wondered how the haughty Slytherin could be beautiful, and yet still so despised.  Quickly she compared their clothes.  _No,_ she thought, _it wouldn't be worth it._

Her mother was calling her, Fred and George by her side, and she momentarily wondered how they convinced her that it was okay to drop out of school.  Sighing, she made her way over.

Ginny spent her summer, like most of her summers before, wandering around the nearby villages.  When she had been younger, Percy and her mother would take her to a different church almost every week.  Percy's favorite was the large Catholic church in the center of one of the small villages.

"The stained glass," he told her one afternoon after mass, "is what makes everything so beautiful."  They were sitting under an oak tree eating the sandwiches and peaches Ginny, then nine, had packed for them.  "I've sat in that building and watched the sun filter through those colors for years and it never ceases to amaze me."  He bit into a peach and juice dribbled down his chin.  Ginny giggled at it and handed him a napkin.  "I haven't found a better place to think, you know."

"What do you mean, Perce?"  Ginny bit into her own peach, "I thought you were supposed to commune with God in church, not daydream."

He shrugged and leaned back on his elbows, watching the sky.  "I always thought that so long as you enjoyed it you would be communing with God.  After all, isn't He supposed to be all grace and happiness?"

Ginny supposed it was too deep for her to understand at her age and went back to her peach.

She retreated to Percy's favorite church the summer after her fourth year more than any other time.  When she had come home from Hogwarts for the first time, frightened and lonely, she made weekly trips into the village to find solace in the pulsating words from the man up on the pulpit.  Percy, because he knew what she needed, went with her.

_Percy's not here though,_ she thought to herself one morning, and, pulling on her sandals, she went out on her own.

The pews were nearly empty when she entered the hallowed chamber.  Down one isle an old man and woman sat, holding hands and silently weeping, down another an alter boy was sweeping up litter from the last service.  Silently, hoping to go unnoticed, Ginny took a seat in the last pew, looking up at the windows high above.

The light filtered through and it dawned on her.

All Harry wanted to do when he returned to The Burrow was lie in bed and mope.  He wanted to ignore Ron's posters zooming around his head and he didn't want to play quiddich.

"Come on," Ron tried to persuade him one warm and sunny afternoon, "How're you going to catch the snitch out from under Malfoy's nose if you don't practice?"

Harry glared at his best friend.  "I'm not allowed to play Ron, remember?  I was banned."  Roughly he shoved his broomstick at the redhead.  "Here- go train your sister.  She'll need more practice than me."

Ron, in a huff, stormed out to play with Charlie and the twins, leaving his friend's broomstick on the floor of the kitchen.  Harry was headed back upstairs when Ginny caught him in the stairwell.

"Harry," she asked, "Would you like to go into town with me for a little while?"

He gave her a blank stare and tried to push past her.  "No, Ginny."

She wouldn't let him pass.  "We're going for a walk, Harry."

"No, Ginny."  He tried to push her away again, marveling at how strong she was for being so small.

"Harry," her voice was low and dangerous, "You are taking a walk with me.  I need to show you something."  The elder boy gave in and Ginny smiled pleasantly.  "Smashing."

Harry was hesitant about going into the church.  "Ginny," he whispered, standing outside the massive doors, "there are stories about people like us going into churches, you know."  He wrung his hands.  "They say that if a witch tries to enter a church God with strike her down for being evil."

Ginny shrugged and pulled him along.  "Then I suppose it's a good thing you're not a witch, Harry."

He had wanted to take a seat in the rear of the empty church- the same pew she first sat in.  Ginny instead pulled him up to the front, directly below a large crucifix, lit up with rainbow-hued sunlight.  Sitting down beside him she looked up.

"Harry," she whispered, "Would you like to know why I brought you here?"

"Yes."  He was still in a sour mood.

"Percy used to bring me here when I was younger.  He used to tell me that the stained glass windows helped him think.  You know," she sighed, "I never really understood what he meant.  Until this summer."

"You don't make any sense Ginny."  Harry folded his arms across his chest and slouched on the bench.  "I should have gone and played quiddich with Ron."

"Harry," Ginny breathed out his name and it caught his attention.  She was looking at him, gently placing her hand on his cheek.  "We all mourned.  We all are mourning.  It hurts, but," she lowered her eyes, "can't miracles happen?  Come on Harry, look at where you are."

He looked around the church, a place based on faith and miracles, and turned back to his best friend's sister.  "He can't come back, Ginny."  Tears were welling up in his eyes, "I asked Sir Nicholas, and he said he couldn't- he said it was impossible."

He saw tears in her eyes before she quickly turned to look up at the windows.  When she turned back her tears were gone.  "But Harry," she took his hands in hers, "Isn't it impossible to escape from Azkaban?"

Harry nodded and looked up as the light filtered through the stained glass.

_end._


End file.
